


Apprehension

by bluemoonmaverick



Series: Supposition [23]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:17:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemoonmaverick/pseuds/bluemoonmaverick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is part of a series that, while sticking strictly to canon, explores the theory that Sam and Jack were engaged in a clandestine romance off-screen from Season 6 onward.</p>
<p>This tag takes place during and after the events of Ethon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Euphemia Franklin, or Effie, as her friends called her, had worked for many an officer during her 39 year tenure at the Pentagon but none quite as unusual as Jack O'Neill. He was irreverent, with a quick wit and sharp tongue that she suspected belied the true depth of his emotions.

When she'd first been assigned to assist him, he'd taken one look at her and told her that he had no use for a secretary, even one as competent as she. Despite his steely eyes, which stood out in stark contrast to his unkempt hair and classic good looks, she was not intimidated in the least. So she'd just smiled at him knowingly. "We'll see," she'd said.

She had absolutely no military training, but she had learned a thing or two about discipline while working for the Pentagon brass for the better part of four decades. So as the paperwork began to pile up on General O'Neill's desk, she had simply waited patiently for him to come to her. Sure enough, by the end of the fourth day (a record, she had to admit), he'd approached her, hat in hand, and begged for her help.

She'd had it all sorted in the space of two hours, and after that, they'd come to an understanding: she'd take care of all the administrative tasks, and he'd stay out of her way. Ever since then, they had gotten on quite well. In fact, she had actually grown rather fond of her General, his proclivity for yo-yos and paper airplanes aside.

That particular morning had started like any other. She was already sitting at her desk when he walked in, making a bee-line for his office. He picked up the cup of coffee she had waiting for him but suddenly stopped short and cocked his head at her appraisingly. "Hot date today, Effie?"

She smiled. She had worn her light blue suit, the one that set off her dark coloring and the generous streaks of silver in her otherwise black hair, which, of course, she kept perfectly coiffed. "You know you're the only man for me, General," she responded, with just the slightest hint of sarcasm.

He grinned. "All righty then. Just want to make sure I don't have any competition." He gave her a quick wink and continued into his office, where she could hear him settling at his desk.

He likely hadn't had time to take his first sip before the phone rang. She picked it up immediately. The General hated it when she did that, still preferring to answer his own line, but Effie had explained to him in no uncertain terms that answering the phone was part of her job, and unless he wanted her to fall victim to the next government furlough, he needed to let her do it.

Not surprisingly, it was General Landry, calling from the SGC. Something about his tone troubled her, but she transferred him immediately. Curious, she quickly sorted the General's mail and entered his office under the guise of delivering the papers to him. She had only just rounded the corner, when a glance at his furrowed brow caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

"How long?" he said quietly into the phone. "Do we know if there were any survivors?" The hairs on Effie's neck stood on end. "And nothing from SG-1?"

Effie had to stifle a gasp. She knew how much his former team meant to him, and his former Second in Command in particular. Actually, she was fairly certain that there was something going on between the General and Colonel Carter. As far as Effie was concerned, that was fine by her. The Colonel was nice enough and certainly pretty, if not a tad too young for him, in her estimation.

Nevertheless, she was quite certain they were seeing each other on the sly, and she didn't need to hear the rumors to draw that conclusion. The two of them exchanged calls almost every day when she wasn't on a mission, and Effie hadn't missed how the deep lines on the General's face softened a bit each time they spoke.

More telling, though, was the one time Colonel Carter had visited him at the office. There had been no formal address from the Colonel when the General walked out to greet her, no exchange of salutes. She'd merely given him a coy smile, causing him to gape at her like she was a tall drink of water and he was a man dying of thirst. He'd all but pulled her inside his office while asking Effie to hold his calls, just before closing - and locking - the door. They had stayed in there a mighty long time.

Watching now as General O'Neill visibly paled in response to whatever was being said on the other end of the line, Effie realized that she should probably extricate herself from his office and pull the door closed behind her. Yet something kept her rooted to the spot. When he finally spoke into the receiver once again, his words were so quiet, she almost couldn't hear them. "What about Daniel?"

Whatever the response, it must not have been good news, because the General simply hung up the phone, propped his elbows on the desk, and dropped his head into his hands. In almost a year of working with the man, she'd never seen him so distraught.

"Is everything okay, General?" Effie asked tentatively. Receiving no response, she tried again. "General?"

"Effie," he finally said, looking up at her with haunted eyes. "I need a transport to Peterson."


	2. Chapter 2

Jack had far too long to think on the flight from DC. He'd sorted through all the possibilities, each more horrific than the last. Landry had told him that they'd received a communication from the Rand Protectorate stating only that the Prometheus had been destroyed by their defensive satellite, and any further contact from Earth, whether by ship or Stargate, would be considered an act of war.

Of course, it was possible they were bluffing. Jack knew the longer they went without word from Daniel or anyone else from SG-1, though, the more likely it was that something terrible had happened.

It wasn't the first time SG-1 had been presumed dead. They'd always miraculously pulled through somehow. But Jack couldn't shake the feeling that something about this was different. He'd feared their luck may have run out, and that was the one thing he didn't think he could survive.

Losing his team, losing _her_ , had always been Jack's worst fear, but especially since he'd left for Washington. It was bad enough to have them go through the 'gate without him when he was still at the SGC, but it was far more difficult now. When he'd still been at the Mountain, at least he'd been the first to know where she was, what she was doing, and what had happened to her. And, right or wrong, he was one order away from leading an entire platoon of Marines through the 'gate to go after her if she got into trouble.

Now, even though he could still give orders, he was hours behind and half a country away from the action - for all practical purposes, powerless. For a brief time, he'd been able to take some comfort in the fact that she had transferred to the relative safety of Area 51. But then Mitchell and Landry had pulled her back. She'd gone willingly, of course, and he knew how happy she was to be back in the field. He could never deny her that.

But if something had happened to her this time, he wasn't sure what he would do. He'd been on the precipice of darkness once before, and he wasn't sure if he lost everything that mattered to him again, he'd be able to step back this time.

These were the thoughts that had consumed him for the last several hours, so it was no surprise that when he arrived at the SGC, he was in no mood for pleasantries. Instead, he was shepherded immediately to the control room by two airman who looked as though they wanted to be anywhere other than in the presence of the brusque General.

He swept into the command center, his face stern, and addressed Landry without any pretense at politeness. "Any word?"

"Nothing," Landry replied directly. He knew that even on a good day, Jack O'Neill was not one for mincing words. And this was not a good day.

"What the hell happened, Hank?"

Landry took a deep breath. "Maybe we should go into my office, Jack."

At that moment, the command center was filled with the familiar clunking noise of the 'gate as it began to spin, and the klaxons blared throughout the facility. "Unscheduled off-world activation!" Harriman announced into the comm. The gate blossomed then settled behind the iris, and he turned to look at the two generals who were now peering anxiously over his shoulder. "It's SG-1's IDC, sirs."

"Open it!" Landry yelled, as he headed down to the 'gate room with Jack hot on his heels. "And get a medical team down there!"

Once in the 'gate room, Jack watched the rippling blue event horizon nervously, not yet daring to hope that SG-1 had somehow pulled off another miracle. After several long seconds Cameron Mitchell finally emerged, trailed by a number of people dressed in uniforms that identified them as the crew of the Prometheus. Mitchell immediately approached the two men in dress blues, who were standing at the foot of the ramp.

"Report, Colonel," demanded Landry.

Mitchell's eyes moved back and forth between his superior officers. He nodded once. "Sirs." Unable to hold Jack's gaze, which kept drifting toward the 'gate, he finally settled on Landry. "The Prometheus was attacked by the Rand Protectorate while in orbit above Tegalus. They used the Ori satellite. Colonel Pendergast was able to evacuate 76 out of a complement of 115 before the ship was destroyed." Mitchell paused, and Jack saw something dark cross his face. "He, uh...he didn't make it, sir."

Jack winced. Pendergast was a friend and a major loss to the program. But as Mitchell continued to explain what had happened, Jack found his attention drawn to the people pouring through the 'gate. He'd done the math, and he knew that 39 souls hadn't made it. None of his old team had come through yet. Desperately, he searched the crowd for a single blond head, his stomach sinking as the throng began to thin.

Finally, a familiar face appeared, and Jack felt some degree of hope, even though it wasn't the visage he'd been searching for so desperately. Teal'c walked down the ramp, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a wounded airman. Jack's optimism was short lived, though, when he realized the Jaffa was not accompanied by the rest of his team, as was the norm. The moment the medics took the wounded airman from him, he approached Jack, his face unreadable.

"T?" the military man asked, fearing the worst.

The Jaffa immediately understood his unspoken question. He clasped Jack on the shoulder and looked toward the 'gate. Jack followed his gaze only to find Daniel and Sam walking through, finally, the last of the group to arrive. As soon as they cleared the event horizon, the wormhole winked out of existence behind them.

It took all of Jack's black ops training not to collapse under the weight of his own relief. Instead, he merely closed his eyes and quickly repressed the rising tide of emotion that threatened to spill over into the middle of the 'gate room. He glanced briefly at Daniel, and the archeologist gave him a curt nod.

His gaze immediately traveled to Sam, only to find her already looking right at him. The second her eyes met his, she stopped short. Jack watched her crack ever so slightly, then pull herself together almost instantly. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to grab her and hold her and tell her never to leave him again.

As the remainder of SG-1 approached the bottom of the ramp, Jack found himself unable to speak, so Sam did it for him. "It's good to see you, General," she said softly.

Jack finally found his tongue, and if his voice was a little rough, no one mentioned it. "Good to see you, too, Colonel." They continued to stare at each other, oblivious to everyone else in the room.

His trance was suddenly shattered by Landry's voice. "SG-1, get to the infirmary. We'll debrief as soon as you're done." He turned toward Jack. "General," he said, and gestured toward his office.

The SGC's flagship team headed in the direction of the infirmary, and with one last look at Sam, Jack followed Landry up the stairs. By the time they made it to the office, Jack had recovered himself a bit. He looked at the base commander. "Too obvious?" he asked.

Landry gave him a small smile. "It was getting there."


	3. Chapter 3

The last rays of the late afternoon sun reflected off the snow outside, filtering into the room and bathing it a dim, blue light. Sam walked in without turning on the lamp, finding that the dark space fit her mood. Slowly, she removed her jacket and laid it across the chair next to the bed. She then moved her hands to her head and began pulling out the pins that kept her hat in place, finally freeing it so she could set it on top of the dresser. She carefully began unfastening the buttons of her blouse, but as the last one came loose, she paused for a moment, her mind drifting back to the events of the last few hours.

She'd held it together at the memorial service somehow. The fact that Jack had been there had helped. Even though they were careful to avoid any obvious displays of affection, he'd stood next to her, occasionally letting his hand graze hers. Now, though, in the stillness of their bedroom, she could feel her resolve crumbling. She grasped the dresser and bowed her head.

Jack's voice broke her reverie. "Sam?"

She looked up into the mirror to find him walking into the bedroom behind her, his jacket off and tie undone. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. She placed her arms over his, noticing for the first time how small and pale her hands appeared next to his.

She leaned back into his embrace. "He was only 45, Jack," she said, her voice quiet in the still room. "His wife, those kids..."

She'd admired Lionel Pendergast from the beginning. He was honest and forthright, kind and brave. She had only worked with him a few times, but on each occasion, she'd been impressed, and he had clearly earned the respect of his crew.

She turned in his arms and let him draw her in, so she could bury her face in his shoulder. "It was just so senseless," she continued, her voice hoarse. Closing her eyes, she thought back to the moments before the Ori weapon had fired on the Prometheus.

She'd never seen it coming. Although the weapon had been designed by a strange alien race, the trigger had been pulled by ordinary humans, with the same petty motivations - religion, politics, turf - that were so common here on Earth. She'd always accepted that they might die in battle, but since she'd joined the Stargate program, she'd assumed that it would be at the hands of unfamiliar and powerful aliens, like the Goa'uld or the Ori. She'd never considered that she and those she cared about could be taken down by something so mundane as yet another power hungry dictator.

"It's a risk we all take, Sam," Jack whispered into her hair, as though reading her mind.

He held her for a moment longer, then pulled back to kiss her tenderly. But she responded with an unexpected passion, slipping her tongue past his lips, her hands scrambling to pull off his tie and shirt and moving quickly to the fly of his pants. It didn't take him long to catch up to her, and within seconds, what was left of her dress blues joined his in a pile on the floor.

Completely naked now, she pressed the full length of her body to him, as their tongues danced and their hands roamed over increasingly sensitized flesh. God, she needed to feel him, to remind herself that they were still here, that even after all the tough years and dangerous missions and long separation, they still had each other. She needed his strength, to feel him real, and solid, and alive. And she needed to know that she was alive herself.

Even though she was certain the light that had engulfed her on the ship was the one that would take her life, it had actually saved it, depositing her in the middle of a field in Caledonian territory, where she'd joined the other refugees from Earth as they looked skyward toward the explosion that took the lives of Colonel Lionel Pendergast and 38 others.

Gently, Jack laid her back on their bed, situating himself between her legs and letting his heavy frame push her into the mattress. She relished his weight, covering her, protecting her. She ran her hands down his spine, as he kissed the corner of her mouth, then along her jawline, down the length of her neck, and finally to her breasts.

After a moment, he began to move further south, but she stopped him and brought him back up the length of her body, anxious to have him inside her. Slipping a finger between her folds and finding her ready, he nudged her thighs further apart and entered her in one long, sensuous movement. She let out a long sigh.

She was reminded then of how right this was, in every single way. As what little light was left in the room began to fade, he continued to make love to her slowly, carefully, and Sam tried to imprint on her mind everything about the way they moved together.

She gave a passing thought to the time they had wasted trying to ignore their feelings - the first years, where she was in awe and more than just a little afraid of him; then the long, lonely years of their denial where any inadvertent touch or meaningful glance left her breathless; and finally, to the painful year they spent apart, trying to believe they could somehow exist without one another. How asinine that had been, when it was so clear to her now that she needed him the way she needed oxygen. And the idea that he could be taken from her, or she from him, in an instant...

"Sam," he finally whispered in her ear, drawing her name out in a manner she knew was as much plea as prayer. She'd been distracted and wasn't close yet, but he knew how to work her, and almost instantly she felt the low, sweet pang of desire she'd had since the beginning building to an almost unbearable tension in her core. Unable to resist any longer, she gave herself up to him completely and just let go.

She cried out as she came, Jack moaning his release at almost the same time, and for just a moment she was able to forget everything but the exquisite sensation of being married to him in every sense of the word.

She wasn't certain when she'd started crying, but Jack was already propped up on his elbows above her, kissing her face and wiping away the wetness with the pads of his thumbs when she noticed.

"What is it?" he asked softly, staring intently into her face.

She paused for a moment before meeting his eyes. "Do you ever think our luck is going to run out? That one day, it'll be one of us...?"

"Don't, Sam." He shook his head gently. "Don't do this."

"It just feels more real to me now, Jack."

He gazed down at her, continuing to brush his thumbs over her cheeks. "I know," he said finally, before leaning down to softly kiss her lips.

And she believed he did.

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks as always to MidKnight Rider for the beta. Special thanks to AkamaiMom, whose wonderful OC Glinda Baldrich served as my inspiration for Effie.


End file.
